The Cricket Cup

Anybody a fan of British baseball, or as they call it, cricket? Too bad, so sad. That's not what this post is about, anyway.

Friday morning, I arose at 4:40 a.m. as per usual on a work day, and stumbled to the kitchen. Poured myself a cup of ambition. Oops! No I didn't. That was my idol, the esteemed Ms. Dolly Parton, in 9 to 5. But I did go to the kitchen to prepare The Pony's school lunch. Part of that task involves shoving crescent-shaped ice cubes into a metal water bottle.

I filled the water bottle about a third full of water, then set it on the cutting block while I harvested the ice from Frig. I use a red Solo cup for that. I normally put the misshapen cubes into my big plastic water cup that I take to school. But this morning, I had left it by the La-Z-Boy for hydration during my post-shower morning nap. So I grabbed a second Solo cup from the counter for the overflow.

Let the record show that I re-use my Solo cups. No, I'm not turning into my mother, washing Styrofoam trays to eat on again next Thanksgiving so we don't have to wash dishes. I use my Solo cups mainly as mini ice buckets. I take a cup of ice to my basement lair to freshen my big cup of water. It's only ice. The cup is not dirty. I set it aside on my desk, and have The Pony carry it back upstairs to my Solo cup stash. I'm actually saving the environment. Because I'm selfless like that.

I dropped the ice crescents into the top of The Pony's metal bottle. A frozen mass best described as conjoined triplets would not fit, so I tossed it into my spare Solo. I also use that Solo to drink a cup of water with my morning meds. It's just water.

With the water bottle filled and safely ensconced on the top shelf of Frig until lunch-bag-packing time, I reached for the Solo containing discarded ice. Like I said, that ice usually goes into my water cup. But this morning I though I would have actual cold water to drink with the meds instead of just faucet water. I reached for the Solo, and spied a dark shadow. I yanked my hand back.

A FREAKIN' CRICKET CRAWLED UP THE INSIDE OF THE CUP!!!

Perhaps I've mentioned that I hate crickets with the white-hot heat of 10,000 black leather seats inside a sealed-up black Tahoe on a blacktop parking lot in July in southeast Missouri. I grabbed that cup and shoved it face down in the wastebasket, ice and all. I could not even face that cricket long enough to guarantee its demise. To think that I almost swallowed it gave me the shakes.

I must re-evaluate my Solo cup recycling plan.